Dogs and Pets

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Monday randoms!

Published 16/04/2012 by Saint

Just before I start work for the day, I think I’ll list some things about me you may have known or may not have known.

  • Can’t have sticky hands or fingers.  Can’t do anything if they get sticky until I’ve cleaned them.  Similarly, cannot wash my hands without having cream to put on them directly afterwards.
  • Same with lip ice, if I brush my teeth, must apply lip ice afterwards.
  • I love marmalade on toast with tea in the mornings or Marmite with a lot of butter.
  • I like films and books that illustrate the dichotomies of life and its paradoxes.
  • I love Pink Floyd
  • I’ve recently changed my image and become quite well-groomed – make up and clothing etc.  I always wore make up to work but hardly ever otherwise
  • Cut my hair very short on Saturday
  • I put a profile up on a dating site but I don’t know if I’m really keen on meeting anyone.  Well, to rephrase, I am keen to meet someone who wants to be friends only.  Not into the idea of rolling about under any covers with anyone at the moment.  Doubt I’ll meet anyone though cos all men on there are on there to obtain someone with whom they can roll under the covers. They also want someone to cook their meals and wash their clothes.
  • I find it difficult to meet people because I feel it incumbent on me to make/sustain conversation whereas my natural bent is periods of quiet interspersed with talking as the desire grabs me.  I’m not naturally good at conversation per se, or for its own sake.  Hard to indulge in small talk too.  This is why I get quite nervous when I do meet new people and if I do meet anyone from the dating site I’m sure he’ll find me a tad dull.
  • what strikes me when reading through the dating site profiles is how many men use several of the following words/phrases/descriptions:
    • Come fly with me (who are they, fucking Frank Sinatra or what?!?!)
    • Outdoorsy, love the outdoors
    • Active, fit
    • Young at heart (this expression is seriously starting to grate me!)  What’s it supposed to mean?!
    • Many seem to like to call themselves Forever Young or similar nicknames.  The last thing I want is another son to care for, grow up man!
    • Looking for my Dream Woman…. ummm… hellooooooo!  There is no such thing you blinking dolt!
    • Want a Princess to Spoil…. ummm… spoil a woman & you’ll land up with a spoilt woman, fooooool!
    • Very energetic/high on energy, run on energy…. are they plugged into the mains?  If so one can only imagine how tedious and tiring their company will be, always on the go, unable to sit still… no ways!!
  • Another thing that strikes me – which is more poignant though – is how many really lonely people are out there. I can’t understand why this should be – we are all supposed to be a fellowship of man, how has it come to this situation where we live in isolated pockets, desperately trying to be happy/find happiness while hoping against hope to find someone who truly loves us, who will see us for what and who we are and will treasure us?
  • I love the colour pink, all the shades from baby pink to electric shocking pink.
  • My daughter was into pink for many years and now she claims she is not into ANY girly girl things anymore.
  • Unfortunately (depending on how she sees it) I bought her a girly girl bracelet for her birthday which is tomorrow but I rather think she will wear it cos she has a sentimental streak she likes to disguise.
  • I really enjoy proper conversations with people, where you actually communicate with people properly.

here is a pic of Moby that Jessica took recently at the kennels where he is staying.  Brilliant pic I think.  Illustrates the height he gets to when he jumps for his ball. Pitbulls are known as the Superdogs of the canine world, highly athletic and agile they can jump from a standstill like cats, to great heights.

 

 

I miss Moby but I know he is happy and well cared for there…. I’m hoping I’ll see him soon.  xx

Happy Monday everyone and remember, love yourself and someone else will find you loveable too!

 

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Moby and his Eccentricities

Published 16/02/2012 by Saint

Dan, the Curmudgeon’s blog about his dogs has inspired me to post about Moby …

The American Pitbull is a rather eccentric breed of dog in many ways.  Some oddities of Moby’s are:

  • Sometimes when he licks himself he makes a kind of snuffling/moaning/squeaking kind of sound.  Hell knows why.  His mother does it too.  If he catches himself at it, he looks at me somewhat reproachfully, with his head down as if he’s peering over his spectacles, as if the noise is emanating from me.
  • He very rarely barks and when he does he seems to take himself by surprise cos he gives a little jump and looks round at me, tail wagging madly as if looking for an explanation for the loud noise (his bark is VERY loud).
  • He’s a useless guard dog.  Entirely useless.  Can’t see in the dark, blind as a bat, and if he barks he’ll be barking at one of the kids who lives there, like Adam, whom he knows very well; mistaking him for someone else.  If someone he doesn’t know comes into our room he bounds off the bed to greet the stranger, tail wagging and grinning from ear to ear as if the bloke has come to see him specifically.  He will then situate himself so that he can gaze upon the newcomer in slavish adoration and if he can wangle it to get his head on the person’s knee then so much the better.
  • He loves ALL men.  If he gets a chance to lick their elbows he works himself into a state of high arousal that ends with him trying to jump whatever man is on the other end of the elbow.  He could be gay cos he did have a pink blanky when he was a pup… LOL!
  • He loves his blanky.  Likes to curl into a tiny ball –  amazing how tiny! – once night falls and have us cover him up whereupon he issues a HUGE snuffling sigh that we call his sleeping sigh and goes to sleep.
  • Terrified of lightning, cows, vacuum cleaners, motorbikes, hosepipes, brooms and mops, ha-de-das. There was a life-sized fibreglass cow outside a diary shop in Primrose. When we drove past it he would bark hysterically at it. One day Jess and I were walking him and we passed the cow. Somehow in a fit of daring that was probably spurred on by terror, Moby jumped up and went for the critter’s throat.  Don’t know how he felt about nearly breaking his teeth on the hard material. He looked a bit embarrassed about it all.  We didn’t laugh in front of him.
  • Here’s a pic of him meeting a tortoise for the first time in his life.  Not the tense posture; the hackles up at his shoulders and near his tail (pits do not put hackles up all along their backs and he rarely puts his hackles up at all).  He looks for all the world as though he is doing everything he can to get away whilst nervously leaning forward but primed to run if necessary.  What a wuss… he was just over a year old here…..

 

 

Emotional Times

Published 13/02/2012 by Saint

I’m afraid I’ve found myself to be unreasonably irritated lately.  Got into a clash with a dolly bird behind the counter at the chemist, she was going at a snail’s pace with the customer in front of me, eventually I said IS THIS GOING TO TAKE LONG and she gave that teeenaged shoulder shake and said NOOOOO , cheekily….  then her computer ran into problems.

So she bangs and bangs away in frustration on the keyboard (by this time I was in front of her, being served).  She makes no attempt to ask her superiors for help or report the problem so I said well maybe if you bang the keyboard harder you might get it to work… *rolleyes*

Also clashed with another one in the chemist, we wanted advice on dressings for Mike and she stands there asking US all kinds of questions about what we might want/need. I said testily that we were rather hoping she might be able to advise us rather than the other way around.

Not proud of these outbursts of mine but I think it’s all too much for me at the moment.

Later she started to tell us about cleaning the wound and I had to walk away; still cannot bear to touch or look at the wound and certainly would never contemplate dressing or cleaning it…. I regard this squeamishness as being a fundamental weakness in my character and I’m sure it must be hurting Mike’s feelings but there is nothing I can do about it.

I. just. cannot. do. it.

There were only two nice things that happened to me in an otherwise relentlessly grim and sad weekend.

One was I went to a tiny chapel in Bedfordview with Mike and his sister, her two sons and a friend.  The place was beautiful and restful. We all knelt and said Our Father together, then we all kept quiet in silent contemplation and/or in prayer. I prayed for strength to deal with the problems in my life and home.

I was very overwrought and highly tearful and emotional when I got there as Jessica and we two (Mike and I) had had a huge blow up and she’d gone marching off, to who knows where. I was worried sick about her, though angry, emotional and all that too.  The little chapel comforted me, the lovely wooden  carvings and engravings and the silence and the beauty of the green grounds, the large apricot trees, the peace that pervaded the place.

I found myself grateful that people had taken the time to build that little chapel, and allow the public unfettered access to it (they do have one service a week but otherwise anyone can just go there at any time). I found myself moved that there are people in the world who create beauty and peace just for others to benefit from.

I missed my own church, the Anglican church (this is a Catholic chapel); the smell of incense, the years and weight of tradition and culture, the soothing sounds of the lesson, the hymns and the organs. The candles on the high altar and the gravitas of the feeling of being face to face (or as close as we can be) with God.

 

 

The other nice thing was Moby curling up next to me, pushing himself into the crook behind my knees as if he were battling to get as close as physically possible, knowing I needed comfort and finally falling asleep after a dreadfully trying and tiring day.

 

PitBull Smiles

Published 09/02/2012 by Saint

All pitbull owners will know the famous pitbull smile….

Moby has a ritual in the morning that he sticks to every day.  Once he knows we are awake he emerges from his blanky on his little bed.. slooowly stretching out his front legs then leaning forward and streeetching his back legs. Ears back. Calm and sweet smile on his face and in his eyes. He pads to Mike’s side, to say hello there then he pads to my side to say hello to me……

He doesn’t smile the full, wide pitbull smile (that I think is a silent laugh really) you usually see when they play. It’s a smaller version but very quiet and sweet.

Makes me feel happy just to see it.

………………vicious uncontrollable bastards that pitbulls are.